


Web of Souls

by Ree_Dragon, zabjade



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, More to be added as the story continues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ree_Dragon/pseuds/Ree_Dragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zabjade/pseuds/zabjade
Summary: With Tara in the hospital after being brain sucked by Glory, Willow takes Buffy up on an offer of a trip out to the desert to clear her mind. While there, she comes across a child, alone and scared. When she ends up falling into a sealed underground, Buffy and Spike have to try save her from darkness while keeping young Frisk out of danger.





	1. Chapter 1

Willow absently hugged herself, rubbing her hands along her upper arms for warmth even though she barely noticed the cold of the desert night. It was nothing compared to the horrible numbness she felt inside. One stupid argument had led to Willow storming out, leaving Tara to go to the Multicultural Fair alone. They should have just talked things out, worked through the issues that had come up. But they hadn’t, and now Tara was being held in the hospital, her hand broken and her sanity drained away by Glory.

And Willow was out here in the desert, feeling weird and tingly and empty after all of the power she’d sucked up and used. She shivered slightly, remembering the feel of the dark magic coursing through her veins. It hadn’t been enough to stop Glory, but….

She looked over her shoulder towards the car to distract herself. When she’d accepted Buffy’s offer to take her out to the desert to clear her mind, she’d kind of thought it would just be the two of them. But, nope. Giles had come along to do the driving, and okay, that was fair enough. And she totally understood Buffy wanting Dawn along, too. But with Dawn had come Spike, because he was apparently needed to help keep her safe, despite the fact that he was still all battered and limping from Glory’s torture.

Willow had always kind of liked Spike, and she felt bad for the guy, but it was just one person too many. That’s why she was walking out here alone while the others waited at the car, even though Buffy had offered to walk with her. She knew her friend’s attention would be mostly on the others, so what was the point? It was understandable, of course, after everything that had happened, but if Buffy was going to help her, then Willow needed to have her focus.

She sighed and hugged herself tighter. She couldn’t think about it all right now. Her thoughts were full of Tara. Tara, with all her fears and worries and now her brain sucked by a crazy hellgod. Willow sniffled as tears started to fall. She wished Tara wasn’t being held overnight, but at least it gave her more time to fall apart before taking care of her.

Maybe tomorrow, she would have pulled herself together, and then she’d be capable of giving her sweetie all the care and attention she deserved. Then, once her sanity was restored… then they could talk things out, and everything would be okay again.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Willow jumped, giving out an undignified squeak at the sudden voice. Spike’s lips twitched up in a slight smirk at her expense, the big jerk. Or, well, maybe not so big. She’d somehow never really noticed it before, not even when he’d been all suicidal, but Spike was kind of on the small side. What was it Xander had said? Compact and muscle-y. Also shorter than Xander, though not by much. The bruises all over his face and the way he was holding himself like things hurt inside…. They usually treated Spike like a joke because of the chip, but when it didn’t involve humans, he was pretty strong and tough. And Glory was so much beyond that that she made him seem fragile and small.

Willow shuddered, appalled at how stupid she’d been to go after the woman. She didn’t regret it, though. She couldn’t. Not after what had happened to Tara.

“You’re a smart one, Will,” Spike continued quietly, cutting into her thoughts. “You’ll get things all sorted and suss out a way to get Tara right as rain in no time.” They started walking together, Willow keeping her pace slow because of his limp. “Until then, though…,” he shrugged a little awkwardly. “Know a thing or two about a barmy loved one, don’t I? Can give you a few poin—” He stopped talking, frowning slightly. “I smell blood. Human, but somethin’ a little odd about it.”

He squinted out into the distance, and Willow followed his line of his sight. Movement of some sort. Was that…? _It’s a child!_ she realized. There was a little kid running out alone in the middle of a desert.

 

**...**

 

Frisk’s chest felt tight with fear as they staggered along the side of the road. _It’s going to be okay,_ they thought. _I just need to get help._ If they kept following the road, everything would be okay. They’d find a gas station or another car, and someone would call an ambulance to come help Mom and Dad. Everything would be okay. It would be okay and Mom and Dad would be okay. An ambulance would come and there would be doctors to make Mom and Dad all better.

Frisk shuddered and choked back a sob, remembering the horrible crunch of metal and how Mom and Dad wouldn’t wake up. They’d been cold. So cold. _It’s because it’s cold out,_ they thought. It got cold at night in the desert, that’s why Frisk was wearing their purple and blue striped sweater. Mom and Dad hadn’t been wearing sweaters, and they’d just gotten cold. That was all, and that was why the red glows that sometimes appeared when Frisk concentrated on their parents looked different, too. That was it. That was….

They cried out in pain as they tripped and fell, the sand along the edge of the road stinging their palms and knees. _What?_ Frisk struggled up onto their knees, then back into a sit to take the pressure off. Their hands were all cut up, along with their clothes. How had that happened? ( _crawling out of the wreckage of the car, the front end warped and twisted like something had crashed into it, leaving sharp edges of metal and broken glass.)_ Actually getting out of the car had been sort of fuzzy, their mind going from trying to wake their parents to looking for help. But now…. The soft cloth of the backseat had been covered with sharp stuff as they’d made their way to the opening that had been a window. They’d grabbed at twisted metal to pull themselves out.

Frisk was hurt and alone and scared, and they just wanted to curl up and cry. But they couldn’t. They had to be strong, or no one would come to help their parents. They struggled back up to their feet, rubbing at their face to wipe away tears and snot with their sleeve.

A quick glance around showed just the long stretch of empty road and…. What was that? There was some kind of light off in the distance, off of the path. Maybe a campfire…. _Did_ people camp out in the middle of the desert?

They bit their lip, not sure what to do. Staying by the road was a good idea, but there was no telling when they’d actually come across anyone. The campfire seemed like the best bet. Maybe… maybe if they just kept going in a straight line, it would be okay. They could always turn around and go back to the road if the light wasn’t what they thought it was.

Frisk glanced back towards the wreckage of the car, far enough back that the light from the moon and stars wasn’t enough for them to see it. Then they took a deep breath and struck out away from the road, filled with determination.

 

**...**

 

Buffy watched Spike head out after Willow, wishing there was something she could do for her friend. But Spike was right. With the whole crazy ex thing, he was the best one to talk to her right now. He’d be able to give her all kinds of advice for when Tara got out of the hospital in the morning. Buffy kind of wished she’d asked for some of that advice back when Mom had been….

She took a deep breath and forced the thoughts of her mother away. She couldn’t afford to grieve right now. Not when Dawn was in danger from Glory and close to being taken away if she didn’t start doing better in school. And, you know, actually _going_ to school. A glance towards Dawn showed she was sitting on the trunk of Giles’s car, studying by the light of an electric lantern. Giles himself was working on setting up a campfire. Buffy wasn’t sure how long they’d be out here, but s’mores and hot cocoa heated in a pan over the fire had been promised.

She looked back out towards Willow, frowning when her witchy friend suddenly broke into a run. What the? It could have been something as simple as Willow wanting to get away from Spike so she could be alone, but then the vampire ran after her despite his injuries. Maybe she’d had some kind of panic or something and Spike was going after her to help, but Buffy was getting some seriously wiggy vibes from it all. Something was up.

“Giles,” she called out, glancing back at him and Dawn. He instantly looked up at her from his crouched position near the firewood. “I think something hinky is going on. Watch Dawn for me.”

“Buffy?” Dawn’s voice was anxious and worried, so Buffy managed a smile for her.

“It’ll be alright. I just need to check on something, okay?”

“I’ll look after her,” Giles promised.

Buffy nodded her thanks, then took off at a run towards Willow and Spike.

 

**...**

 

She’d been too preoccupied with thoughts of Tara to notice it at first, but as Willow chased after the child, she saw a weird flickering light. The kid seemed to be heading right for it. Willow had no idea what it was, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer which would have confirmed her thought that it was magic even if she hadn’t been able to sort of… feel it. There was a vague, disturbing sort of, of _hunger_ for the power, a need to replenish the magic she’d sucked out of Giles’s books in her attempt to get vengeance against Glory.

The light pulsed suddenly, and the child was just gone, as if abruptly plucked from the world. Then the light flared right in front of her and she went from running on sand to sliding on a bunch of loose rocks along a slope right towards what looked scarily like a bottomless pit. The child was right there in front of her, screaming as he (she?) slipped over the edge.

Gibbering terror shrieked through Willow, but she didn’t let it freeze her. There was no time for words. As she fell down the hole, she gathered up the last dregs of her exhausted magic and flung it out, shaping what she needed with nothing but her will. She plummeted down past the child who was now gently floating, light as a feather.

Willow hit the ground, pain jolting through her body in an explosion of yellow flowers. _It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone new,_ a strange, childlike voice whispered in her mind. _I’m Chara, and we’re going to be the bestest of friends…. And with your help, we will eradicate the enemy and become strong._

Then everything went away.


	2. Chapter 2

“Bloody hell!” Spike shouted as he fell on his arse in the loose gravel that had suddenly appeared under his feet.

He jammed his fingers into the scree and dug in his heels, just barely keeping himself from falling arse-over-tits down the bloody big hole at the end of the slope he was on. God, he hurt, every injury from his recent torture screaming in agony. He forced himself to think through the pain, trying to figure out what the bloody hell had happened.

One moment he’d been chasing after Willow when she’d hared off after some sodding brat in the middle of the desert, and now here he was. No sight of her or the kid, but he could still smell them. Bloody buggering fuck! Like to have gone right down the sodding hole, the both of them. He was tempted to just leave them, but he knew Buffy wouldn’t like it. She’d finally started trusting him again after that whole sodding mess with Dru and the chains. He couldn’t just throw that all away.

 _She’d never know,_ the thought drifted through his mind. He would, though, and with his luck, it’d all come out somehow. Besides, he kind of liked Willow. That all sorted, he tried to suss out just how he was going to get down the hole without causing himself too much more damage. _Maybe if I —_

His thought was interrupted by a sudden yelp of surprise. Then Buffy crashed into him, and they both went sliding over the edge.  

 

**…**

 

 _Numb._ That was the best, and only, word that came to Frisk as they tried to make sense of the situation. It was like that feeling when your foot fell asleep, but in the mind, dulling all thought and feeling into an uncomfortable tingle. Frisk was pretty sure, though, that head rubbing wouldn’t do anything to ease the feeling.  Wasn’t even sure they wanted to, honestly. It was better than the panic and despair from before.

The crash. Mom and Dad. Falling like a stone until a lady had dropped down past them. It all felt muffled and distant, though it was strange about the lady. Frisk came to a gentle landing in a patch of yellow flowers, looking around for the lady. She didn’t seem to be in the dim cavern. But...where else could she be?

There were places to hide, Frisk was sure – this cave was so dark they could barely see the wall in some areas, and some areas had it entirely hidden in shadow.

Ergh…it was too dark.  Why hadn’t they brought a flashlight?  There was one in the trunk, along with a useful first aid kit!

 _Too late, now_ , Frisk thought with another glance upward.  Couldn’t go back the way they’d come.  That meant waiting for help, or the hope they weren’t surrounded by walls on all sides.  And… Frisk still needed to get back to Mom and Dad.  They were stuck in the car until Frisk found help, and there wasn’t going to be any help with Frisk stuck in here hidden by the darkness.

So… Frisk guessed just picking a direction and walking would be the best plan.  They moved straight ahead, holding a hand out to prevent bumping face first against a cliff wall.

“Oh!  There _is_ someone here!”

Startled, Frisk spun around.  Looming behind was… a face?  No, wait, was that a flower?  It looked kind of like one, with yellow petals ringing a white center.  It looked a little like the flowers surrounding it.

“Howdy!”  The flower greeted them cheerfully.  “I’m Flowey.  Flowey the flower!”

“I thought I heard noises in here, but when no one came through the door, I got worried.”  The flower studied Frisk for a moment before continuing.  “You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?  Golly, you must be so confused.”  It smiled sympathetically.  “Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!”  It looked around before focusing on Frisk again.  “I guess little old me will have to do.”

Anything the flower might have said was lost at that moment, replaced by two screams from somewhere up above.  A moment later, the flower was gone, there was something between a yelp and a yell, and two bodies were lying in a heap.

 _No!_  Flashes of unwanted memories pushed their way through Frisk’s mind.   _No, stop!  It’s okay!  Mom and Dad will be okay!_  Frisk just had to get out of this nightmare, and then they could get some help. Until then... Maybe it was the darkness making things look awful, but there was something bad about the man that had fallen. He looked hurt, especially his face, and there was something...missing?

Frisk stepped forward, ignoring the voices of their parents in the back of their mind screaming to stay away from strangers.  These two might need help.  Frisk was just a kid, but there had to be something that could be done, right?

“Ummm…  Do you need some help?”  Frisk looked between from the man to the woman, who was already climbing to her feet.

 

**…**

 

The monsters in her path were quick to move out of her way as she walked through the ruins of Home, watering can in hand.  At one time, this place had been the home of every monster banished to the Underground.  Now, though, the only monsters that lived here were her and the descendants of those few who had followed her into her self-imposed exile after the deaths of—no, she could not let her mind go there now.  Not in view of the various Froggits, Whimsums, and other monsters that shared the ruins with her.  They depended on her to be strong; she would not let them lose hope, let alone be the cause of that loss.

Her large paws carried her almost of their own will through the winding rooms leading to the back of the Underground - the place where she’d buried… where the flowers would be waiting, as always, for her care.  Decades of practice along these halls led her to disarm the traps without a thought - flipping the color-coded switches in order, keeping on the path that would prevent her from falling into the room below, weaving her way around a floor full of spikes…  These obstacles had been put in place shortly after the humans had forced them down here, and were meant to keep any humans who came after them from getting far, or at least slow them down long enough for the monsters to escape.  The worry over humans attacking them seemed to be unfounded.  They must be content with the monsters being trapped, or perhaps they had forgotten about the war by this point, but the traps and puzzles made everyone feel safer, and had become something of a tradition in this day and age.

“Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!”

She had entered a room onto a silver walkway looking over a lower level when she heard a chilling, familiar voice she had heard six times before.  The watering can fell out of her hands and tumbled into the pile of dead leaves below.  It had been so long since she had heard that voice, and she knew that it could only mean one thing: a new human has fallen into the Underground.

“I guess little old me will have to do,” the voice continued, rousing her from her thoughts.  She leaped down to the floor below and started running without missing a beat, readying her fire magic for an attack.  She only had seconds - she hoped she could make it in time.  

The way beyond the door was dark, but her feet knew the way, and it only took a few moments to reach the end of the ruins, where the source of the voice…was not there.  Instead, there was a child standing near the middle of the room, next to…

Oh, dear.

“Do not be afraid, young ones.”  She approached the trio, fighting the urge to rush forward.  

She would not be doing them any favors if she scared them, and the young man was very obviously injured.  He seemed to be trying to cradle himself, and his face was so bruised…had she been too late to stop the attack?  Beyond all of the injuries, something seemed… _off_ about him, though she could not quite put her finger on what it was. Well, if he let her, she would take care of all that in a moment, and then she could introduce herself properly.

“Who are you?” the young woman asked, putting herself between Toriel and the young man and child. Her stance was protective rather than truly aggressive, an important distinction that she would continue to honor by being as non-threatening as she could manage.  

“I am Toriel. I mean you no harm,” she said gently. “Let me tend your wounds.”

The young man tilted his head slightly, studying her intently. “Not sure what sort of demon she is, but she doesn’t seem dangerous. Yet.”

 _Demon?_  Toriel frowned at the man’s words.  It was not that he had called her a demon - her kind had been used to such thoughts during their time on the surface - but he had mentioned it so calmly…  Toriel turned her attention to the man, giving particular focus to his soul.

Well...what should have been a soul.  Try as she might, she could not find more than a wispy residue that clung loosely to his form.  How could that be?  Humans needed their souls - they at least had that common with monsterkind.

Memories stirred in the back of her mind, and she listened for heartbeats.  There were three - her own and two others - in a room with four beings.  There were stories from long ago, of humans who had returned to life as demons after being dead and buried.  Some stories even went on to say that they preyed on their family and neighbors afterward.  She had been fortunate enough to never encounter such a being, and had considered them mere myths created by the humans to explain the appearance of some of the more humanlike monsters, but it seemed there was a certain amount of truth to the tales.

This was troubling.  He seemed to have some level of concern for his companions - at least enough to inspire caution in them.  Her instinct was still to heal him, but maybe she should lead these poor people home first.  There would be no other monsters there to attack them, and she could keep the humans at a safe distance while healing their possible friend, just in case he wasn’t who he seemed. But then there was the child...she could not heal them without rousing suspicion from the adults if she neglected the man.

 _I hope you will forgive me for this…_  She stepped back, taking comfort in the fact that the child's injuries seemed minor. They would be fine until she led everyone safely through the ruins.  “It is dangerous to linger here.  Come!  I will guide you through the catacombs.  This way.”  She gestured the way she had come and then started toward the door, listening for the footsteps of the others to be sure they were following her before she started the journey through the ruins.

 

**…**

 

She stumbled through the darkness, lost and confused. Where was she? What was…? Who was…? Chara. She was…. _No!_ Not Chara, she was Willow. _Willow._ She was….

_Kill. Maim. Make them all pay._

Willow cried out and fell to her knees, clutching at her head. The voice wouldn’t stop. It just kept going on and on. _Eradicate the enemy. Become strong. It’s what they all deserve._ No. No, oh goddess, no. What was happening to her? Schizophrenia, maybe? She was in the right age range for it. She fought back a hysterical giggle. She’d lived her entire life on the Hellmouth and had been friends with the Slayer since her sophomore year at high school. Why was she even bothering trying to figure out the logical answer?

_You want to make things better, don’t you?  You want to stop the pain this world dishes out, right?  You and I are just the same._

Okay. Okay, she could figure this out. The voice in her head was either some kind of telepathic thing, or something trying to possess her. She was in control of her own mind and self. She just had to force the invader out. Easy as pie, right? Right. She took a deep, steadying breath as she got back up to her feet…. Then screamed as a huge frog-like _thing_ leaped towards her.

She automatically gathered up her magic and flung it at the creature, incinerating it with a burst of fire. And in Willow’s head, as the dust fell to the ground, Chara cackled with maniacal glee.


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy followed behind the tall, white-furred goatdog woman, trying to keep on guard. She shouldn’t be trusting this woman. She definitely shouldn’t be letting her lead the little kid by the hand. She knew that, but…. There was something so motherly about Toriel. 

There was pressure behind Buffy’s eyes as tears tried to fall. It hadn’t really been all that long, and sometimes, the fact that her mother was dead just hit her, like a stake rammed into her heart. But there was no peaceful bursting into dust. No escape from the loss and the burdens and….

Beside her, Spike stumbled and swore, distracting her from her dark thoughts. He looked better than he had when she’d tricked him into thinking she was the creepy robot, but he was still in bad shape from what Glory had put him through. Falling through a hole into some weird underground cavern hadn’t helped any. 

In front of them, the goat lady glanced over her shoulder with a strange expression. Kind of like she was torn between concern for Spike and wondering if “bloody buggering… mutter, mutter” was actually bad language or not. 

Concern seemed to win out, since she gave Spike a sympathetic smile. “It is not much further, young one,” Toriel said soothingly as she led them through a corridor of purple bricks. 

Spike snorted at that and raised a brow. “Young one, is it? Nearly twelve decades a vampire, me. Not exactly ancient, mind, but not really a spring chicken, either.”

Toriel just smiled, her warm - and sort of creepy - red eyes crinkling with silent laughter. “As I said… It is not much further… young one.” Her expression turned serious as they reached a sort of wooden platform. It stretched over some water and was covered in metal spikes. “Follow closely, please. There is a safe pattern.”

She took a step out onto a specific tile of spikes, which immediately receded. Buffy watched dubiously as they sprang up again once Toriel and the kid, Frisk, were past. Great. Looked like she was going to have to trust that they really would go down, and weren’t just reacting to Toriel. 

_ Fortune favors the brave, _ she thought, nose wrinkling slightly in disgust. She’d had that thought about Riley, and look what had happened there. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. No more of that. She had to find Willow, get them all out of here, and get back to Dawn. She didn’t have time to think about Riley, or even Mom. 

Buffy took a step forward, body tensing until her foot came down on the tile. The spikes retracted before she could get skewered. She let out a sigh of relief, then frowned slightly over her shoulder at Spike. He’d been limping. Would that throw him off enough to make it hard to follow the path?

She didn’t want to risk it. Spike was the only one other than her with any chance of protecting Dawn. And… well, as much as it was seriously wiggy and she didn’t want to admit it, he’d sort of started growing on her lately. 

His words from that day last week floated through her mind.  _ I couldn’t live, her bein’ in that much pain. Let Glory kill me first. Nearly bloody did. _ He had…. No other man who had claimed to love her had ever…. Angel might have, if given the chance. Riley, though? Her… her dad?

Buffy shook her head and reached back to grab Spike, leading him over the path Toriel had taken. Then they were all past it and heading into a long, empty looking hall with a pillar at the far end.

Frisk broke free from the goat woman’s grip at that point and sprinted off, looking at everything in wonder.

“Do not wander far, my child,” Toriel called after the kid. “The ruins are not safe for one so young.”

Frisk stopped and turned, walking back to the group, looking around and staring intently at the walls. “Sorry. What’s the puzzle for this room?”

“The next puzzle is beyond the door up ahead,” Toriel responded. “However, puzzles are not the only danger…”

That was when something came hopping from behind a pillar and leaped right for Spike. 

****

**…**

****

Compared to all else he’d been through in the past few weeks or so, getting hit in the face by a great bloody frog - near as big as his head, seemed like - was barely a thing. Bit of a straw on the camel’s back though, now wasn’t it? 

Rage and frustration bubbled up as Spike reached up towards the frog thing. He was going to kill it. Rip it to sodding  _ shreds _ , little bitty pieces of frog confetti. Throw it all about as part of a bloody parade of carnage and destruction. He…. 

A sudden giggle, cut off by the sound of someone putting their hand over their mouth stopped Spike in an instant. God, the sound of Buffy’s laugh…. He didn’t care that it was at his expense, was one of the most beautiful sounds ( _ almost as good as her screams, _ a part of him whispered) he’d ever heard. 

Feeling more mellow towards his little froggy friend, he carefully grabbed it and gave it a gentle toss to the ground. Then he tilted his head, giving it a good look over. Basically frog-like, but with a head about as big as the rest of its body and...he wasn’t sure what that facelike lump was beneath its belly. 

“Cute little bugger, inn’it?” he muttered. 

The thing gave him a confused look, then hopped away. 

****

...

****

The frog monster had been funny, especially when it landed on Spike’s face.  They didn’t dare laugh too long about it, though.  Something about him - his…whatever that was instead of a soul, maybe - was scary.  The way he acted made him seem  _ nice _ and scary, and Frisk wanted to believe in that, but strangers were dangerous even when they had normal souls.  Until they knew the man a bit better, they had to be careful.

Then, after making sure everyone involved was okay, Toriel resumed leading everyone through the ruins, explaining to Frisk which switches to flip, what path to follow, how to resolve things peacefully when a monster approached, and everything else they needed to know about navigating the ruins.  

It was a lot to take in, but Frisk found they were able to guess at each puzzle’s solution before the explanation was finished.  Why not?  It was just like playing a video game!  …They tried not to think too hard about that, though.  Thinking about The Legend of Zelda made Frisk want to play it, which made them miss home and dwell on…well…everything.  Frisk had to keep thinking positive, or they wouldn’t be able to move forward.  They needed to keep moving forward, to focus on their goal of getting out of here, to stay determined.  They’d make it.  Everyone would be okay.  Everything would be okay.

_ Stay determined… _ thoughts played in the back of their mind at every moment.  At first, it had been the normal self-encouraging thoughts that went through Frisk’s mind whenever they were having a bad day, but there was the faintest of faint whispers chanting it along with their thoughts in a voice they’d never heard before today.  It had started with an odd shimmer they’d noticed in a room near the one they’d fallen into at the start of all this weirdness.  There’d been a few shimmery spots since then, and the voice had grown slightly stronger with each.  They wanted to ask about the shimmer, but Toriel didn’t seem to notice it, and if Buffy and Spike could see the shimmer they weren’t acting like it.  Maybe it was an angel?  Frisk’s own guardian angel making sure they’d be okay until they could get back to their parents?

Frisk hoped so.  That thought was a huge comfort in this place.  In the meantime, at least their company seemed friendly and safe.  Toriel was very kind and protective, reminding Frisk of most of the mothers they’d known.  Buffy and Spike were okay too, though they weren’t quite as welcoming.  Friendly, but…cautious, Frisk guessed.  Frisk should be too - Toriel kept saying it was dangerous here, and that the underground was full of monsters.

“We are nearly there.”

Toriel’s voice broke Frisk out of their thoughts, and they followed the monster around the corner, their eyes falling on the deadest tree they’d ever seen.  The entire thing was dark and lifeless, like it had somehow managed to rot without falling.  There were no leaves on the branches, though there were some on the ground.  Did this tree make all the dead leaves they’d seen in the rooms they’d walked through?

Toriel led the group around the tree before Frisk could ask, and before them was what seemed to be a house built into the walls of the ruins.  Another shimmery spot hovered above the leaves near the home, and that unfamiliar but encouraging whisper grew just a little louder.  Frisk closed their eyes and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and easing the tightness in their chest.

The motherly monster reached for Frisk’s hand, gripping it gently despite her large size.  “Come, everyone.  We are home.”

Frisk let her lead them away from the spot and through the door of the house, looking around.  It was…very nice, actually.  Almost like a home back in their neighborhood.  The pale wood floor and cream-colored walls almost made it hard to remember that they were still underground.  A large hole against the back wall was mostly fenced off, and when Frisk approached it they could see two sets of stairs leading down into what they guessed was a basement.  An end table with a potted plant rested in the back left corner, and a small shelf was placed against the back wall near the top stair.  There were doorways on either side - the one to the left leading into what looked like a living room and the one on the right into a hallway.

“This way.”  Toriel walked toward the hallway, and Frisk followed.  Footsteps behind them told them that Buffy and Spike were doing the same.  His footsteps were getting a bit more uneven, probably because he was hurt.  At least they were in a house, now.  Maybe Toriel had a first aid kit or something in a closet?

The pale creams of Frisk’s surroundings gave way to soft gold as they stepped into the hallway.  There was another end table here with a vase holding a red flower, and a tall vase with a long plant Frisk couldn’t identify, but Toriel had stopped in front of the nearest door, so Frisk joined her.

“This will be your room.”  Toriel petted Frisk’s hair.  “I hope you like it.”

Frisk bit their bottom lip.  Their room?  But they had to keep moving!  They turned to Toriel to tell her this, but she was already on her way down the hall with Buffy and Spike.  Well, she had to look after them, too…  But Frisk really needed to keep moving if they wanted to get back to their parents in time.

Although…it could be quite the walk to get out of the underground.  They were tired enough that their feet were hurting and their eyes wanted to close.  Maybe a short rest would be a good idea.

With that in mind, they opened the door and stepped inside.  This room was decorated in soft reds.  So was every room in this house its own color?  Would there be a blue or purple room?

_Focus, Frisk._ _Nap, then we’ll save Mom and Dad._  Frisk sat at the foot of the bed, giving the room one last look-over.  It was clearly a child’s room, so where was the child?  Spending the night at a friend’s house, maybe?  Toriel must be really trusting, to let someone she didn’t know into her kid’s room.  It was okay - Frisk wouldn’t touch anything they hadn’t already.  It was getting hard to move, anyway.  And think.  And keep their eyes open.  Yeah, sleep was needed.

Frisk’s head hit the pillow, and the world seemed to fade, granting a moment of peace.

****  
  



End file.
